


Oxygen

by AlitheCambre



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: Buffy is dead at first too, F/M, Joyce is dead, No Smut, Post-Episode: s05e22 The Gift, Recovery, dawn becomes a badass, giles is also mentioned, rewrite season 6, spike and dawn bromance, spike gets his soul early, the scoobies are mentioned, very dawn-spike-buffy centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-12
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-01-12 10:08:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18444389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlitheCambre/pseuds/AlitheCambre
Summary: Begins directly after Buffy’s Sacrifice in “The Gift” (S05E22). Spike keeps his promise to keep Dawn safe- and the Hellmouth without the Slayer is not safe. Together, they go to Africa and get him a soul. Things go differently when Buffy gets resurrected. Spuffy. Dawn becomes a badass.





	1. Agony

Spike felt as though a hole had been punched in his chest. The Slayer- Buffy- was lying on the ground, sprawled in a way that no doubt would have been very uncomfortable, had she been alive. He was barely able to tear his eyes away from the sight, but a small sob caught his attention. Looking up, he saw Dawn, tears in her eyes and a hand clamped over her mouth as she looked over the edge of the tower her sister had jumped off of. 

“Take care of Dawnie,” Buffy’s voice echoed in his head, clear as could be, almost as if she were standing right next to him. Ignoring the fact that he couldn’t seem to draw breath (he didn’t need it anyways), Spike sprinted to the stairs, sweeping Dawn up into his arms and pressing her face to his leather-clad shoulder as he ran her back to the ground. He set her on her feet carefully, deliberately out of sight from her sister’s corpse. The rest of the Scoobies seemed to be in shock, gathering around the Slayer’s cold body. A flash of annoyance hit him- none of them had thought to get Dawn? 

Swallowing down the grief and anger, Spike turned to Dawn. “Shhh,” he stroked her hair gently. “It’s… well, it’s bloody not okay, lil’ bit, I can tell you that. But It will be, I promise.” His voice cracked as he tried to draw air into his lungs. The pain was almost debilitating. The grief was familiar- it felt almost as bad as it had when he’d had to stake his mother so many years ago, after he’d turned her into a monster. 

“Spike… how can you say that! She’s… she’s dead!” Fresh sobs came and Dawn punched his chest to emphasize the declaration. Spike pulled her closer and stroked her hair. 

“Shh, I know, I know… I promised to take care of you, Bit. You’ll always have me, okay? I’m no replacement, but I need to keep you safe. I’ll keep you safe.” He babbled on and on as she cried, giving useless platitudes and firm promises. 

Eventually the Scoobies made a sort of stretcher and began carrying Buffy away. Spike carried Dawn like a toddler, propping her on a slim hip as she clung to him like a koala bear, face pressed firmly into his shoulder. They made an odd funeral procession, walking through the back roads of Sunnydale with the body of the Slayer. Eventually they made it back to the Summers’ home and Giles began making calls and arrangements with the council. Willow and Tara numbly made their way to the kitchen and began to cook. Xander pressed closer to Anya on the couch across from Buffy’s. Spike took Dawn up to her room. 

Eventually, after a lot of hair stroking and shushing, Dawn’s sobs subsided into hiccoughs. She pulled her face from his shoulder and met his grief-filled gaze with her own. Her eyes were red-rimmed and face blotchy. She looked exhausted, simultaneously too old for this worlds and too young to deal with this loss. Spike sympathized. After a long moment, a familiar look entered her eyes- the steely gaze of a Summers’ woman who was determined to get her way. 

“Spike.” she stated, pausing as if his name were a sentence all on its own. 

“Yeah, lil’ Bit?”

“You said… you said you are gonna keep me safe.”

“Yeah,” he wondered where she was going with this. 

“Take me away.”

“What?”

“Away, Spike! Take me away from here, away from this house, Sunnydale and the Hellmouth, from all those- those people!”

“Whoa, lil- Bit, slow down-”

“No! You promised to protect me? Then protect me! A Hellmouth without a Slayer is dangerous. I can’t stay here, and I don’t want to! I can’t go back to school and see everyone’s faces when they look at me. I can’t go downstairs and have them grieving my sister when you and I both know we loved her more than they did! They did nothing but try to control her, to  _ help _ her by making her decisions for her. And they pushed her into this- making her think the only way to save me was to sacrifice herself! I need to go, Spike.” She took a deep breath and seemed to calm down a little before continuing. “If you won’t take me away, then I’ll go myself.”

Spike stared at her for a long moment. Dawn met his gaze evenly, her hazel green eyes watering with tears but overflowing with determination. She clenched her jaw, opened her mouth- hesitated, clenched it again. Spike sighed.

“Okay.”

Nodding, Dawn sighed in relief. “Okay. Just let me pack and leave a note.”

They left in the darkness, the smell of Willow’s cooking permeating the floorboards as they slipped out Dawn’s window into the back garden. Dawn’s backpack was slung on her back an she was slung on Spike’s . He ran them away at vampire speed, disappearing into the night before they were missed. 

\----

 

_ Now Boarding: Section A of Flight 1227 to Japan National Airport at Gate 5B. _

“That’s us, Bit.” Spike stood and grabbed his own backpack, one he used to carry the things he’d acquired overnight when Dawn had been sleeping in their hotel room. They’d made it to San Diego in the DeSoto before they stopped for the night and put the car is storage. Spike had holed Dawn up and tucked her in proper before running to get what they needed. Fake IDs, Passports, adoption papers, Birth Certificates, Health Cards, and a change of clothes- it was amazing what a little money and a lot of threatening the right people could do.  After nicking a few wallets and robbing a fancy house’s safe, he’d had enough cash to get them plane tickets, too. One way flights to Japan were cheaper than he’d thought. 

Heaving herself up, Dawn swung her own backpack up and followed him to the gate. They passed through the line easily enough- easier than they had customs, that’s for sure- and soon were seated on the plane.

“Are you sure, Bit? It’s not too late to turn back,” Spike offered, knowing her should. Dawn glanced out the window to the tarmac but met his gaze. 

“I’m sure. Mom is dead, Buffy is gone, and you’re all I have. For all their claims of being family to us, the rest of the Scoobies never even tried to get to know me. Not like you do. And although she may not have said it- Buffy… she did love you, in her own way. Maybe it could have been… you could have been my brother, Spike. That was all I’d ever wanted. I just wanted her to be happy and for us to be a family.” She paused. Spike once again thought about how wise and broken this little girl was. The Key may be thousands of years old, but Dawn was only a teenager physically, and an infant chronologically. “I can’t have that, and Sunnydale would only remind me of that. I’ll always remember it the way it was, before all this. If we stayed… I didn’t want to see what it would become.”

Okay,” Spike said. It felt as if he’d been saying that a lot, just mindlessly agreeing. But he really  _ did  _ understand where Dawn was coming from. It was one of the reasons he’d never gone back to England after his mum died… it just wasn’t the same. Too many good memories that could be spoiled. 

Dawn leaned her head on his shoulder and together they watched the tarmac move and disappear as the plane took off. The vast ocean spread under them, and the vampire and the key took their first breaths of their new lives.


	2. Breathing Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike and Dawn adjust to their new lives and head to Africa.

It had been… months. Spike wasn’t sure exactly how long, he’d avoided calendars since the day he’d lost her… they’d lost her. Buffy wasn’t just his to lose. Dawn had been his rock, oddly enough. She was always so perceptive and she’d known just how much he’d felt for her sister. On her insistence, he’d gotten his chip removed. 

“How are you supposed to protect me when you can’t even feed properly? Besides, what if I’m attacked by humans?”

They’d made a deal- he could feed, but no killing. Catch and release, with a little memory wipe to send them on their way. It was fine with him, Spike had never revelled in the kill, only the fight. And most humans were too weak to put up a decent one anyways. It was why he’d been so fond of slayers- their blood was delicious AND they fought. Too good to pass up, really. 

But having his chip removed had made Spike think. He’d considered it, before… But with the lil’ Bit in his care and a promise to keep, he’d been researching. Dawn was attending a prep school in Japan, picking up the language like a sponge with the help of her tutor that Spike had personally vetted and hired for her. Makoto was a lovely woman who was half Irish, half Japanese. She spoke both English and Japanese fluently and had a kind soul. But with Dawn away all day, Spike had free time to visit the local magic and lore shops, as well as the Oni bar just down the street from their apartment. 

Japanese demons were wary of outsiders, but stuck to the hospitality code that their country was so fond of. They were especially helpful when Spike had told them what he needed. Now that it was all figured out, it was time to tell Dawn, which would no doubt be the most difficult part of the process. 

“Gomen-nasai, Makoto-sensei!” Dawn’s chipper voice rang out from the front door. Spike braced himself as she entered and grinned at him, unable to help grinning back a little. 

For the first week or so in Japan, the grief had been incapacitating to them both. They talked through memories of Buffy and even Joyce and dried on each other and grew closer than ever. It was after he’d told Dawn of his mum and what happened to her when he changed that she’d insisted he get the chip out. After they’d purged all the emotions, they’d slowly started to live again. Dawn, now his “adopted daughter”, began attending school. He got a job writing for a newspaper from home (to avoid sunlight). They’d both made friends, his of the demon variety. They could breathe again without the pain in their chests. 

“Hey, Bite-Sized, can you come here for a bit?” he called out. 

“Spike?” she sounded concerned as she came towards his voice. Pausing in the doorway, she studied him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he took a deep breath to prepare himself. “I just got something to tell you. While you’ve been off at school, I’ve been looking into something. I’ve thought about it… I thought about it  _ before _ too, but now…” he trailed off. 

“Oh god, you aren’t leaving me!” a panic came over Dawn’s face as she rushed towards him.

“No! No, what? That’s… no. I’d never leave you, Bit,” he swore fiercely. “How could you even-”

“Sorry, sorry! Of course you wouldn’t- I just assumed the worst. Oh my god I’m sorry,” she soothed, hugging him tightly. He hugged back just as fiercely. 

“No, I’m sorry for scaring you. It’s nothing bad, I promise. I just… I found a demon, in Africa. If I go through the trials he gives me, and survive… I can get my soul back.”

There was a long pause. Dawn pulled away, brow furrowed. “Like… like Angel?”

“Not like the bloody ponce!” Spike growled, running a hand over his face in frustration. “It’d be  _ my _ soul, from when I was human. And it would be for good, not some gypsy curse that would make me lose it first time I got a little happy.”

“Why, Spike? You know that I love you even without a soul, right? You’re my brother!”

His undead heart warmed and he smiled down at her. “I know. But… I was gonna do it for Buffy, originally. I wanted to love her more, because she deserved to have someone who could. I can love, Bit, you know it and so do I… but I also don’t understand a lot of things. Things that having a soul would help me with. I’ve killed a lot of people, Dawn, and I’ve hurt a lot more than that. But I don’t…  _ care _ . I want to care but I don’t. So I have to do this, Bit, for Buffy’s memory and for me; but most of all, I want to do this for  _ you _ . I need to be able to protect you from everything, even… even myself.”

“Because you promised,” Dawn concluded. 

“Because I promised,” he agreed, “and because you’re my little sister and I love you.” 

Dawn met his gaze and teared up and the sincerity she found. She tackled him into another hug and he oofed as he staggered back a few steps. She’d grown so much…

“Okay,” she agreed. “We’ll go to Africa. But first let me finish this semester. And,” she pulled back to wag a stern finger in his face. “You have to make good on that other promise you made.”

“Other promise?”

“To keep me safe… by teaching me how to fight for myself.”

Spike took a deep breath and considered before nodding seriously.

“Okay.”

\-----

Africa was hot. The demon Spike needed was situated in the DR Congo, right on the equator. Even at night, like it was then, it was hot. Spike was glad the undead didn’t sweat. Dawn followed him into the cave, crossbow at the ready. In the two months it had taken her to finish her semester at school, Spike had taught her everything he could about hand to hand combat and various weapons. She was far from slayer-level, and even farther from his level, but she picked up his teachings easily enough and was pretty proficient for a human, especially one her age. He’d also taught her as much French as possible- if they were going to Africa, then they’d have to speak the language. She’d soaked it up as easily as she had Japanese, and Spike had moved on to Portuguese just for the hell of it- the girl had a knack for languages. 

The cave entrance opened up to a wider cavern, and amongst the stalagmites was a great beast- the demon they were seeking. 

“Who comes to my domain?” a voice boomed, not aloud, but in their minds. Spike flinched a little- he hated telepaths. 

“I’m Spike. I want to go through the trials so you’ll grant me my wish.”

“And what is your wish, William Pratt?”

Suppressing a groan- why did the thing bloody ask if it was just gonna search his mind for the answer? - Spike replied. 

“I want my soul back, permanently.” 

A low rumble of consideration followed his words. Finally, the beast seemed to grin- although it was hard to tell. 

“Very well. But be warned- none who have come to be tested have ever returned. The trials are three in number, and they will test you in every way. You will be changed. You will be harmed. You will be killed. There is no other way to get your wish.”

“Bring it on,” Spike smiled defiantly.

“So be it.”

And the darkness consumed him.

 

Trial the First

_ The Mental Trial _

He could hear them- all of them. Every one of the voices of every one of the people he killed. They rang in his ears as his mind argued with itself. The pain was substantial, but nothing in comparison to what he’d gone through before. One by one, he forced himself to recall the face, then the taste, then the voice of everyone he killed. One by one he faced them in his mind. One by one he apologized and banished them from his thoughts. Hundreds, maybe thousands of voices were gradually reduced. Some of them nameless, some of them not. Some he’d played with, some he’d merely used for his own survival. Few he’d actually cared for. The memories were overwhelming, but his end goal was there, in the forefront. He had to get through this. For her. For  _ them _ . 

 

Trial the Second

_ The Emotional Trial _

Their faces- Buffy, Dawn, Joyce… His Mum. His sister- oh little Lizzie, who he hadn’t allowed himself to remember for many years. Lizie, who had laughed and played outside. Who had borrowed his books and demanded he teach her how to read. Lizzie, who had contracted typhoid and died at age eight. 

And then his mum. So sweet and loving. So smart and gentle. He saw her die a thousand times, over and over. Her blood splattered handkerchiefs piled around her bedside. Her throat splitting under his fangs. Her body falling to dust as he drive the stake through her undead heart. He did that- killed her. He killed her twice. He’d taken her choice away. He’d killed her on his terms, not her own. He’d murdered his own mother! What kind of monster would do such a thing?

Oh, and so many others! Trite apologies made no difference to the dead! He’d killed them, he’d  _ killed _ them. He’d killed  _ them _ , HE HAD KILLED THEM! All of them! The blood was deep, covering him, drowning him. As it should! He deserved it! He deserved to die for all that’s he’d done, all the innocents he’d killed. 

A ray of light shone into the blood soaked thoughts. 

Buffy.

Dawn.

Oh, even Joyce was there. His thoughts centered around them, the Summers’ women. How appropriate, that. Their name: Summer. Summer was the season of growth and light. Of warmth and joy. Everything that h never, ever deserved to have. And yet… they’d given it to him. Joyce had been kind, oh so kind to him. And Buffy had shown him such mercy. Even after all he’d done, when he was unable to fight back she had not ended his life. And Dawn- she deserved to be safe and loved. Protected. He would protect her. Until the day he was dusted and gone, he would protect her. She was all he had left. And she  _ loved _ him. She was his sister, just like little Lizzie. He couldn't have saved Lizzie, he’d had no cure for her, but he could save Dawn. He would always save Dawn. 

 

Trial the Third

_ The Physical Trial _

Paralyzed. Not a single twitch. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t move! Briefly, he was reminded of the time the organ was brought down on him and he’d been unable to feel or move his legs. But this was his whole body. Nothing worked, not even his eyelids could blink. He stared blankly at the stalactites on the ceiling. Then he felt it- a beetle crawled over his torso. Since when was he naked? Another beetle, then another… another, another, another- soon he was covered in them. His mind screamed but he couldn’t move. He felt the first bite. Pain radiated out in waves. It felt like a match had been pressed to his skin. 

Beetles crawled over his eyeballs, poking into the soft orbs and he was unable to blink them away. He saw the pincers come closer. Then they were eating him. His eyeballs, his flesh- it was all being slowly, excruciatingly eaten away. The fire consumed him, unlike any pain he’d ever known before. Worse than anything Angelus or Glory or any of the others had ever inflicted on him. Pain so bad it should have made him pass out. He screamed and screamed but his mouth made no sound. He was a paralyzed.

“Do you give up?” a voice broke into his consciousness. The beast. The trials. It flooded back to him and then was chased immediately away by the pain. In between screams be cackled stubbornly.

“Not a chance.”

Pain returned, stronger this time. The beatles ate away at him, covering his whole body from the ends of his hair to the toenails on his feet. He didn’t give in. He  _ wouldn’t _ give in.

And suddenly he was breathing again.


	3. Changing

The memories of Dawn’s frantic face after he staggered out of the demon’s cave were clear, but everything after that was broken up and hazy. Somehow Dawn had gotten them back to the service road and presumably paid some truck to take them back to their motel, because that is where he was when he fully regained consciousness two days later.

The congo wasn’t the most stable politically or economically, but there were a few places in the city that were still open to guests. None of them would be winning 5 star ratings anytime soon, and it had taken Spike a month just to find one place that guaranteed they didn’t have any bed bugs in their rooms. Their room was still rather shabby, but not too bad considering the circumstances. It looked like heaven to Spike when he opened his eyes though.

“Spike! You’re awake!” Dawn’s voice came from slightly behind him and he made an effort to turn his head to squint at her, still blinking the grogginess from his eyes. The teen was standing near the microwave in the corner which seemed to be heating up a cup of ramen that they’d packed from Japan.

“I hope you used the water filter we bought,” he croaked. Dawn looked puzzled at first and then followed his gaze to the microwave and laughed. 

“Of course that would be your first concern when you wake up. Don’t worry,  _ dad, _ I definitely used it. There is no way I would risk getting any of those horrible diseases you saw fit to scare me with before we came here.”

“You needed to know what you were risking coming to a country like this, Bit,” Spike rolled his eyes and winced. How did even that hurt? Unfortunately for him, Dawn noticed his reaction.

“Are you still in pain? On a scale of one to ten how bad is it?” she bustled forwards and placed her hand on his forehead. Spike snorted and knocked her hand away.

“Vampire, bit,” he explained at her offended look. 

She blushed as she realized his point. “No body heat, right. So no fever from infections.”

“Actually, being dead has some perks-” he broke off with a wince as he levered himself into a sitting position, swatting away Dawn’s hands when she tried to help. “I can’t get infections. All wounds heal eventually, ‘cept dismemberment, and even then I’ve known a vamp or two that convinced a witch to help replace a limb they were missing.” 

Dawn watched him move worriedly, biting her lip. It was silent for a moment. “Did it… did it work? Do you have your soul?” she asked carefully.

Spike looked away from her, his gaze going distant and eyes clouding over with some unknown emotion. “Yeah.” His jaw clenched, the vein at the bottom jumping visibly. “It worked all right.”

“That’s… good?” Dawn sounded uncertain. Spike refocused his eyes on her and softened.

“Yeah,” he chuckled without humour. “It’s good… good but painful. I never really understood how Angelus spent so many years brooding after he got his soul but now… knowing what he’d done before he got his soul back, I’m not sure how he didn’t just off himself.” His blunt words took Dawn by surprise.

“Spike…”

“You know I would never, Bit,” Spike defended, putting his hands up placatingly. “I got too much to live for, me- too much to protect. And besides,” he grinned a little, an almost genuine expression that she was ecstatic to see. “I never did anything half as bad as the ponce to regret. I… killed a lot of people, Bit, but I was never one much for torture or rape, ‘cept in the beginning with the railroad spikes.”

Dawn appreciated how honest he was with her. He didn’t worry about offending her or protecting her from too many graphic details. He treated her like an intelligent girl who was able to think for herself and make her own choices. It was one of the reasons, she thought, that Buffy had so clearly loved him so much. 

Confortable silence stretched between them as Dawn ate her microwave ramen and prepared a more vampire-friendly meal that she’d acquired from the local butcher shop for Spike. They watched fuzzy sitcom reruns on their crappy television as he ate. Finally, just before they fell asleep, Dawn asked the question she’d had on her mind all day.

“So. What do we do now? Where do we go?”

Spike didn’t answer right away. Dawn looked over at him, wondering if he hadn’t heard, and found him deep in thought. She gave him a minute. “Well,” he began. “We could go to France, seeing as you pretty much have the language down. Or Portugal. Hell, I’ll teach you Italian and we can go live in Rome. After that… we could go back to Sunnydale and check up on the Scoobies.” Seeing the look on Dawn’s face and knowing she would protest he cut her off. “I’ve been thinking… thinking about what B-Buffy would want,” he ignored the way his voice still broke when he said her name aloud and so did she. “She would want us to look after them and keep the Hellmouth at bay. I can finish teaching you how to fight before we go back and we could research more about how to seal a Hellmouth for good.”

Dawn took this in and thought it over. She really had matured in these past few months. Finally, she nodded. “Okay. I think one month in France, One in Portugal, and a few weeks in Rome should be more than enough, don’t you? We have two more days booked here which will give you a chance to recover before we fly out.”

“Sounds perfect,” Spike agreed. 

\--

With the soul came nightmares- loud, screaming nightmares. Dawn handled them well, almost seeming to have been expecting them the first night. When Spike woke from the first one, she had already filtered him a glass of water and wiped his brow with a dry face towel from the bathroom as she shushed him gently. 

By the time they made it to Portugal, the nightmares had lessened, but they hadn’t stopped completely. Spike didn’t think they ever would. It was a small price to pay in penance for his sins. 

Dawn made leaps and bounds of progress in her physical training. She was motivated and smart, refusing to let anything limit her. Sometimes she reminded Spike so much of Buffy that he had to leave the room and force himself not to cry. Other times, she was just so distinctly  _ Dawn _ that he couldn’t help but laugh. For example, the first time she tried a roundhouse kick, she’d ended up flat on her back and winded as her balance failed her, looking exactly like a baby deer trying to walk on ice. He had laughed until he was sure he’d throw up as she pouted up at him before kicking out and nailing him in the back of the knee, bringing him down to the mat as well. 

So, while she didn’t have Buffy’s natural strength, balance, or flexibility, she made up for it with determination and practice. He made sure she knew how proud he was of her, even if it made them both uncomfortable when he said so.

He also made sure that, wherever they went, she was properly enrolled in school and attended all her classes. He spent a lot of nights staying up late to help her with her homework and proofreading her essays. Buffy would want her to get a complete education, after all.

They were two weeks into their research in Rome when the burner phone Spike was using rang.

Spike and Dawn were in the kitchen of their rented flat, cooking some spicy pasta with a smaller pan of blood sauce and spices on one burner just for Spike. When the phone rang from where it sat in Spike’s trench coat pocket in the adjacent living room, they’d both frozen in their tracks. Only a few people had that number, and none of them would be calling without texting first unless it was an emergency. Spike dropped his spatula in his pan of sauce and rinsed his hands before striding over and retrieving the phone, flipping it open to check the caller ID. 

“It’s Clem,” he told the puzzled looking Dawn, pressing the button to answer before bringing it up to his ear. “Clem? What’s going on?”

Dawn couldn’t hear what Clem said in response, but whatever it was made Spike grow pale, paler than Dawn even thought possible. “Are you sure?” Spike reached out, bracing himself against the back of the couch. Dawn flicked off the burners and wiped her hands on a towel, walking towards him with concern and curiosity written on her face. “Do you know who-? … Okay. Okay, we’ll be back in less than 24 hours.”

He hung up the phone and dropped it carelessly on the couch, collapsing next to it with his head in his hands and his elbows propped on his knees. 

“Spike?” Dawn reached out and became alarmed when she realized he was shaking. “Spike!”

“Oh god,” he looked up, gasping for air. Dawn’s alarm increased when she saw the tears in his eyes. “Oh god, Little Bit…”

“Spike, what happened?” she demanded frantically, sitting on the ottoman to face him. Spike reached out to cradle her face.

“Little Bit… Clem called to let me know that the dirt on your sister’s grave was disturbed and her body is gone. He doesn’t know what happened or who did it but there was evidence of magic around. He thinks… he thinks someone tried to resurrect her. He thinks they might have succeeded.”

Dawn took in this new information slowly, her hands dropping from his in shock. Finally, she looked up with a grim expression. He’d taught her a lot about spells and how resurrections could go horribly wrong after she’d tried to resurrect her mother. As much as he’d loved Joyce, the chances of her bringing back anything resembling her mother had been incredibly slim and he had made that clear. She knew the price of magic.

Whatever had left her sister’s grave… probably wasn’t her sister any longer.


	4. Resurrection

The flight back to Sunnydale was somber. After the initial explanation, they’d packed and left Italy within six hours.  

Neither would admit it, but each contained a small flame of hope within their hearts. They both hoped for the best- that Buffy’s resurrection was done by someone who knew what they were doing and brought her back properly and undamaged. Despite knowing the chances were slimmer than slim, they both hoped, and knew it was in vain.

The closer they got to Sunnydale, the tenser they both became and the fewer words they exchanged. Communication between them was limited to facial expressions, grunts, and the tiny steering touches Spike would initiate by grabbing her arm gently as they made their way through customs to get back into the United States. 

When they finally made it back to the Summer’s house after picking up the DeSoto from storage, Dawn found herself unable to leave the car, staring out the window at the home she had  _ thought _ she grew up in, the home where her mother had died and her sister had tried to take care of her before she sacrificed herself for her. Memories- some real and some fabricated by the monks- bubbled up in her mind. Spike placed a hand on her shoulder, pulling her out of her reverie. She met his understanding gaze and forcibly shoved them back down, taking a deep breath before opening the car door and heading to the trunk to grab her bags and a few of the weapons that Spike kept there. Now that she knew how to use them, she wasn’t going to be unprepared.

They walked up the path together in silence and paused as Dawn dug the necklace that had her house key on it out of her blouse and used it to unlock the door. As far as they knew, Xander and Anya had moved into the house with Willow and Tara after they’d taken off, according to Clem. Apparently sharing the rent between the four of them made it more affordable and it was a damn sight nicer than his parents’ basement. Dawn hadn’t been sure how she’d felt about the people who had treated her sister like their friend and betrayed her trust occupying the house they’d grew up in, but at least it meant it hadn’t been sold to some strangers. 

When they opened the door, the last thing Dawn expected was to be ambushed. The attack came before she got a chance to turn on the lights so she reacted instinctively, grabbing the unknown opponent and flipping them over to slam them on the ground, pinning them just like Spike taught her, a knife she pulled from her boot pressed to their exposed neck. As her eyes adjusted, she loosened her grip but didn’t let go completely.

“Willow?” she asked in confusion. 

“Dawnie? Spike?” the redhead gaped up at them. Slowly, Dawn retracted the knife and resheathed it, letting the pressure off the woman beneath her and stepping back. Willow sat up with a wince and Spike couldn’t help but chuckle a little. 

“Why did you attack me?” she demanded.

“You broke in!” Willow protested. “And since when have you known self-defence?”

“Since Spike taught me,” Dawn shot back. “None of you were bothered to teach me how to protect myself so someone had to.” She reached over and flipped on the lightswitch to the main entryway, illuminating them. 

“It doesn’t matter!” Willow sat up and dismissed her as usual. Dawn forgot how irritating that was. But her next words froze both Dawn and Spike in place. “I’m so glad you’re back! Buffy is back!”

A long moment of silence passed. “We know. That’s why we came back.” Dawn replied after exchanging a look with Spike. 

“You know?” Willow looked shocked. “Who told you?” 

“Clem found the disturbed grave dirt and signs of dark magic and called us. We came to put an end ot the spell and return her to her grave.” Dawn was proud that her voice only broke once.

“Return her? Why?” Willow asked, looking appalled. 

“All magic comes at a price,” Spike finally spoke up, stepping further into the house. “The chances that whoever resurrected her brought her back whole… they’re not good. She’s most likely not- not herself, anymore.” He couldn’t bring himself to say her name aloud. Dawn reached over and gripped his wrist in understanding. 

Willow scoffed. “Oh, well, that’s fine then- I brought her back.”

Dawn and Spike froze.

“You. Did. What.” Spike barely kept the growl from his voice. 

“I brought her back. It wasn't easy, but I did my research! She should be fine soon enough, she’s just in shock right now and-”

“You know where she is?” Dawn interrupted. Willow frowned at her but answered anyways.

“She’s upstairs.”

Spike and Dawn didn’t need a second to communicate, they both ran, taking the stairs two at a time. The door to her sister’s room was closed but Dawn wasted no time in swinging her momentum into her dominant leg and kicking just like Spike taught her next to the lock with enough pressure to break the door in. It flew open and hit the wall with a bang that caused the little ball of dirt and bones to curl up even tighter in an effort to shield herself from the people coming inside. 

Once inside, both Spike and Dawn froze at the sight in front of them. Broken and bleeding fingernails clutched the now-dirty white duvet close, terrified green eyes peeking through the darkness through mud caked blonde hair. She was skinny- too skinny- and pale as a corpse just the smallest bit of pink at the rims of her eyes and in her lips to show that she was  _ alive _ . 

“Oh  _ Buffy _ ,” Spike gasped, slowly extending a hand out towards her, a pained look of realization on his face. “I’m so sorry, luv, I’m so, so sorry!” Tears began to flow as he carefully stepped forwards as if he was approaching a wild animal. The ball tensed but unfurled a small bit. 

“S-s-spike?” her lips stuttered and Spike knew that she was probably recovering from rigor mortis, he’d done it himself all those centuries ago. 

Dawn finally recovered from her own shock and moved further into the room as well, tears already flowing as she softly called out. “Buffy? It’s… it’s me, it’s Dawnie,” green eyes surveyed her slowly.

“D-dawnie?” she gasped around a sob of her own. In a matter of minutes, they were all crying, Buffy clinging to them both as they drew her into a three-way hug. She was cold and shivering and Dawn did her best to warm them. She even felt cool against Spike’s undead skin which concerned him. 

None of them could say when they fell asleep, but they all woke up the next morning still entangled, dried tear tracks on their faces. 

For the next two days, Dawn did everything she could to help her sister feel alive again. She helped her bathe and dress the first day when Buffy had still been in too much shock to do so herself. She delivered meals that Willow cooked and brushed her sister’s hair as she chattered about her adventures travelling through Europe, Asia, and Africa. Buffy never responded, but occasionally Dawn swore she saw some proud looks when she talked about all she had learned. 

Giles returned from England as soon as Willow called him and gave him the news. He’d scolded the witch, of course, but ultimately let her get away with it, overjoyed to have his slayer back in the realm of the living. Buffy refused to acknowledge his presence entirely, and something in Spike was glad to know that she wouldn’t forgive the man for abandoning her and her family in their time of need so easily. 

Spike was less sure of his long-term welcome in Buffy’s life and spent most of his time researching the spell Willow showed him that she used to resurrect the slayer. He had to admit, she really did seem to have done her research- as far as he could tell, there were little side-effects to it, but he knew sometimes the darkest spells came without warning signs. He returned to taking nightly patrols in the cemeteries, a little unnerved when Anya and Willow talked him over their new programming for the BuffyBot. Before he’d gotten his soul, he hadn’t really seen what was wrong about the Bot, but now it disgusted him. How had he ever been so disrespectful to use Buffy’s likeness like that?

He had to admit, the think was pretty indestructible. It could clear out a graveyard in a single night- not as efficient as Buffy or himself but much better than nothing on the Hellmouth. And keeping the local demons from realizing the slayer was dead had been a smart move on the Scoobies part. During the daytime at least, Sunnydale functioned like normal. Nighttimes were growing rougher, but now that he was back, that would stop soon enough. 

Everything was going fine- better than he had ever hoped for. Buffy was alive, Dawn was no longer alone, and he got to stay around them both. Not even Xander’s smart comments and near-constant attempts to antagonize him could make him want to be anywhere but where he was.

Then people started breaking into song. It was funny, at first, and he really had enjoyed his waltz and duet with Dawn as they did the breakfast dishes in the Summers house that morning, but after the first person danced so fast they burned to death, finding the culprit became much more urgent. Even Buffy had managed to scrape up enough energy to sit with them at the Magic Box and research for a hour or two.

But then Dawn had been kidnapped and- as far as Spike was concerned- all bets were off. The Scoobies and Giles had chosen a hell of a time to decide that Buffy didn’t need their help any longer and Spike had been furious when he’d learned through their song that they’d just left her to go confront an unknown demon by herself when she clearly wasn’t entirely mentally recovered from her resurrection  _ and _ when the demon in question held her sister hostage. 

When he’d finally caught up with her he saw Dawn strapped to a chair, desperately trying to saw through her bonds with a rusty nail she must’ve picked up from somewhere. He allowed himself to feel a flash of pride in her before turning his focus to Buffy. She was dancing furiously, her feet smoking as she grew faster and faster, showing no signs of fighting her inevitable death. The Scoobies poured in- as always- in the last moment, but not one moved to stop her. 

So he stepped forward, grabbed her shoulders, and sang how he felt. “You’ve got to keep on living… so one of us is living,” he crooned, pulling her close to look deeply into her eyes. Tears welled up in the green irises he loved so much as she dropped the bomb that stopped all their hearts.

“...I think I was in heaven…”

Willow’s choked sob came from somewhere nearby but he couldn’t care less. All he could do was gather his slayer in his arms and pull her close, tucking her face into his neck as she sobbed, snot and tears soaking his plain black cotton t-shirt. He was aware of the others figuring out who summoned the demon and why he’d taken Dawn hostage. Just when the demon was about to leave, Dawn sprang from her chair, no longer bound, and grabbed a broadsword from the ground nearby. In one smooth movement that Spike had drilled into her, she decapitated the demon, his purple and green blood splattering over the shocked peanut gallery of Scoobies and Giles.

“What?” she spat. “Were you just going to let him return to his dimension? He killed somebody and he’d do it again if we let him go.” She dropped the sword and stepped over the body of the demon which was already conveniently decomposing into the concrete below. Approaching her older sister, Dawn put a hand on Buffy’s shoulder who allowed the younger girl to steer her from the warehouse. Spike took comfort in the fact that Buffy refused to let go of his hand all the way back through the sewers to the Summers house. 


	5. Healing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I confused myself trying to find this chapter because originally I named this fanfic “Promises” so when I typed “Oxygen” into my drive search nothing popped up and I panicked 😅 (I never renamed the document)

Buffy was frightened and confused- two feelings she hated. After her and Dawnie’s father had left when she was ten and Dawnie had been almost six, she had felt these same emotions- confusion and terror. She had been confused about what was going on- Daddy was leaving? When was he coming back? Did he not love them anymore? Did he still love Mommy? Was it her fault? Was it Dawnie’s?

Her mother had done her best to answer her questions, but she was only one woman. And so Buffy had been scared- what was going to happen to them? Would they have to move? Where would they go?

When she grew up and realized that her father had truly abandoned them (a birthday card once a year for her and Dawnie did not a father make) she had vowed to never feel so lost and helpless again. She had been on the road to recovery when she was called and her first watcher began training her. He hadn’t been as old as Giles and was more like a big brother figure than a father, but when he died saving her on Patrol, she’d taken it hard, rejecting her slayer calling as she grieved, blaming her powers for all the horrible things that happened to her. 

And then Giles had come into her life, along with Willow and Xander. Friends and a new parental figure- things she hadn’t realized before then that she desperately wanted and needed.  Giles abandoned her too, and after her mom died Willow and Xander hadn’t been much help at all. In fact, she remembered crying on Spike’s shoulder more often than Willow’s. 

Before she had died- before she sacrificed herself- she’d made him promise to take care of Dawn. although her memories from her first few days after Willow resurrected her were fuzzy and blurred with the constant pain she now endured after being pulled from heaven, she remembered most of Dawn’s idle chatter as she’d cleaned her up. Spike had kept his promise, and then some. He’d taken her away from the Hellmouth, trained her to defend herself and to fight, made sure she stayed in school, tutored her to keep her grades up, and even taught her several languages. 

There was something… different about Spike himself. Something softer and more compassionate. She couldn’t put her finger on the exact change, but it made her feel more at ease with him somehow. She began to realize just how much she trusted and relied on him, and it didn’t bother her like it should.

In fact, Spike and Dawn seemed to be slowly healing her. Everytime Dawn smiled, a little of her chronic pain lessened. Everytime Spike teased her gently or held her while she cried, she felt herself relax a little more, become a little more alive. 

Weeks of their gentle but firm company had her smiling more, leaving the house to do simple errands like grocery shopping or picking up job applications. Since the Scoobies hadn’t declared her dead, there was a lot of time to make up for. One night, she was sitting at the table and pouring over budget spreadsheets and tax forms, trying to make ends meet. Spike had come in through the back door, presumably returning from a patrol, and sat down next to her without a word, taking half the stack from her and working through it, asking her the occasional question as he helped her. 

About a month of living passed before Dawn finally reached the end of her patience with her sister on the one topic she avoided like no other.

“When are you going to start patrolling again, Buffy?” she asked bluntly one morning. Buffy froze, her forkful of pancakes pausing on its way to her mouth.

“What?” she breathed, eyes widening with fright. Dawn looked her over before sighing gently, delivering her nex words in a much softer tone.

“Spike has been patrolling since we got back. He’s running himself ragged, trying to take care of the house and us all day and the demons all night. He may be a vampire, but he needs rest too. I help out when I can but I have school to worry about, plus I am not the slayer. Like it or not, Buffy, we still live on the Hellmouth and you’re still the Slayer. Spike could use your help and you know he’ll never ask you for it.”

Buffy took a long moment to take in her sister’s words before putting her fork back down to her plate, no longer hungry. “I know.” She smiled wryly. “When did you get so smart?” 

“When you died and my only family became a 200 year old victorian vampire with an Oxford education.”

The bluntness of her words hurt but also startled a laugh from Buffy, croaky and rusty as it was. She struggled to remember the last time she had laughed. 

“I’m not… I haven’t fought in so long I-” she broke off, biting her lip. 

Slowly, Dawn smiled. “That’s alright- come look at what Spike and I have been up to,” she waved for her older sister to follow her and made her way to the basement stairs. Buffy followed, curiosity clear in her eyes as they descended the stairs into the dark sublevel. Once there, Dawn flipped on the light at the base of the stairs and spread her arms as it for say:  _ ‘See?’ _

The basement had been converted into a pretty impressive home gym. Rubber mats covered the previously bare concrete floors. A weight rack and bench was tucked into the farr corner, a squat rack and weights next to it against the far wall. To their left was a little room that had been made into a cardio room with a treadmill, elliptical, stationary bike, and other equipment. Under the stairs there was a hip sled machine and a balance beam next to  few plain yoga mats and some weighted fitness balls. Over to the right was a wall of mirrors and a chest of weapons she recognized as having come from Spike’s old Crypt. The room past that was presumably where Spike slept (why hadn’t she thought of that before?) and held a decent sized mattress with minimal lumps that rested on top of a few shipping pallets to keep it off the unfinished floor.

“Where did you get the money for all this?” she asked dubiously.

“Some of it was salvaged from the junkyard,” Dawn shrugged. “Some came from an old storage shed Spike has had since the 1970s. Other things…” she trailed off, knowing her sister wouldn't’t like this part. “Other things we just stole.”

“You  _ stole _ ?” Buffy turned sharply, disapproving frown already on her face. Dawn sighed. 

“Yeah, we did. But we’re not taking it back and we didn’t hurt anyone in the process so suck it up.”

Buffy glared for a moment longer before huffing a sigh of defeat. “Fine.”

“So…” Dawn drew out the word with a smirk after a small pause. “Wanna spar? Hand-to-hand only, no weapons. Just me and you to make sure you’re not rusty.”

Buffy thought for a moment before allowing her excitement to be fighting again take over. A grin pulled itself onto her face and she nodded. 

“Best of three?”

“You’re on,” Dawn laughed. And then she attacked.

\--

Two hours, many bruises, and a lot of laughter later, the two Summers women laid flat on their backs in the basement, both breathing heavily and feeling satisfied. Buffy had won overall, but Dawn had taken her by surprise to win the first match. Her little sister fought really well, thanks to Spike. She was surprised at just how secure that made her feel, knowing Dawnie wasn’t totally helpless to defend herself as she once might have been. 

Laying on the ground, panting and grinning, they heard the sound of the front door open and close followed by footsteps on the basement stairs. Neither of them bothered to move, and so that is how Spike found them, sweaty but happy. 

“Hello, little birdies,” he laughed upon seeing them. “Having fun, were we?”

“Buffy is going to start helping you patrol again but she was worried she was rusty so I offered to spar with her,” Dawn filled him in. Spike turned to Buffy with an eyebrow raised.

“Is that true, luv? You know you can take more time off if you need it, I’m not going anywhere.”

Warmth filled Buffy at his obvious concern. “Dawnie is right, I can’t avoid being the slayer forever. And you taught her well, she even beat me the first round.”

“My teaching had nothing to do with it, the Bit is resourceful and smart all on her own, I just had to teach her the basics,” he replied modestly, looking at Dawn with pride shining in his eyes. 

“Untrue,” Dawn snorted. “I had all the grace and strength of a baby deer at first and you know it.”

“True. It was all due to my excellent teaching! She was hopeless before I got to her, I tell ya! Hopeless!” His teasing laugh echoed through the basement and Dawn scowled before leaping up and tackling him. Buffy watched bemusedly as they play-faught, grappling in an impromptu jiu jitsu match before her. Suddenly they broke apart and stared at her. It took her a second to realize why- she was laughing. Full-bellied and unrestrained, she wasn’t sure she could remember ever feeling this comfortable and at home before, certainly not since Joyce died. 

It felt good. They made her feel good. They were her  _ family _ . She loved them  _ both. _ The realisation was so startling that she stopped laughing and their looks of affection turned to concern. 

“Buffy, luv?” Spike asked softly. “What’s wrong?”

Tears welled up and she cursed these strange mood swings. “I just-” she broke off as a sob overtook her. Dawn and Spike pulled her close as she tried her best to talk and tell them what was going on. “I love… I love you two,” she sobbed, clutching them both tightly. They relaxed at her words, returning her hug just as fiercely. “I love you both so much!”

“We love you too, pet,” Spike crooned, rocking her softly back and forth. 

“You’re my sister, Buffy,” Dawn had teared up as well but pulled back to look her in the eye. “I will always love you. And despite how it happened, I’m glad you were brought back to us.”

They stayed like that for hours, just holding each other in silence until they grew hungry. 


	6. Patrolling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter! The epilogue will be up... sometime later I don’t really have a schedule for it yet haha ☺️

Her first night back “in the saddle” went much better than she had feared. Spike was there every step of the way, and those battle-hardened instincts she’d developed before her death were hard to shake. She ended up dusting seven of the twelve fledgelings they found and beheading  a particularly skeevy chaos demon who had been hanging around the dump for the last week or so according to Spike. The demon had been responsible for the death of a few people already and it had taken Spike all week to trace it back to the dump. 

After the first night, it was as easy as free falling. Fighting was in her blood, and for the first time she wasn’t ashamed or afraid of it. Spike and Dawn were fighters, too, and she loved them just the same. 

The one downside of patrol was also one of the best parts- it allowed her to spend time alone with Spike. 

Although she had admitted to loving him, she was still unsure about forming a romantic relationship with him. He was everything she’d ever wanted (sans the soul, but who could be picky?) and she was so terrified that if she let him in she would end up pushing him away. As much as she wanted to believe he’d never leave them, she didn’t quite trust her own judgement of people anymore. Too many people had betrayed her before, and she was reluctant to allow someone close enough to risk that happening again.

But the patrols made her want to forget all her worries and just  _ be _ with him. The more she talked to him, the more she fell for him. He was smart and funny- sometimes a bit too crass but (although she would never admit it aloud) she even found that amusing. He was a charmer, definitely. He never let a day pass without telling her how beautiful she looked, or how proud he was of her when she accomplished something new. He supported her not only physically and emotionally but financially too- he always slipped some cash into their cash drawer when he thought she wouldn’t notice. He also never stopped helping with Dawn- he set aside time to help her with her homework and kept her brushed up on the languages he’d taught her. Buffy had even started picking up some French and a little conversational Japanese just by sitting at the table while she looked over the bills in the evenings.

Spike was there and he  _ cared _ , that much was plain for anyone to see. It was this obvious care and attention he showed them that prompted her to ask Dawn more about the year she’d been… gone. 

She listened as Dawn recounted all that happened to the best of her memory. It was when her sister glossed over their transition to Africa that she became suspicious. Why would Spike take her baby sister into a Civil War zone for seemingly no reason at all? It didn’t add up. There had to be more than what Dawn was telling her, but when she pushed for answers her sister had just looked at her sadly. 

“It’s not my story to tell. You’re right- there was a reason we went there. Spike had something he felt he needed to do. You’ll have to ask him more about it if you want answers because it’s really not my place to tell you.”

Still reeling over her baby sister’s newfound maturity, Buffy had decided to take her advice. That night, when Spike woke up and they were preparing for patrols, she gathered her courage and asked.

“So… why did you go to Africa?” Spike froze in the middle of lacing up his left boot, slowly raising his head to meet her gaze, blue clashing with green as he assessed her sincerity. She stared him down, waiting for an answer. When he didn’t give one after a minute of silence, Buffy walked forwards a little. “I can't figure it out. I asked Dawn and she said it ‘wasn’t her place to say’ or something,” she snorted, “but there has to be a reason. Why else would you take my baby sister to what is basically a war zone when you were trying to keep her safe?”

Another silence fell over them, this one a little tenser. Finally, spike dropped his shoelaces and sat up, facing her head on. 

“I heard,” he began, licking his lips in a gesture she recognized as one he did when he was anxious. “‘Bout a demon who lived there- of the wish-granting type. Old and powerful, everyone said: ‘if you pass his trials, you’ll get one thing in return- anything you want.’ So I looked into it… you were dead and all I had was the Bit, you know? And I just wanted… I wanted to be able to regret all I did to hurt you. I wanted to love you even more, and I wanted to be sure Dawnie was safe with me. I promised to protect her- even from myself.” He held her gaze seriously until she nodded her understanding. Satisfied, he dropped his eyes and took a steadying breath. “The trials were the worst thing I’ve ever endured. The worst torture Angelus and Darla could have thought up didn’t even compare.” A flash of pride crossed his features before he continued. “I made it through, though. I thought of you, and Joyce, and Dawnie… I saw my mother and my baby sister who died centuries ago and I made it through. When it was over… I asked him for my soul.”

Buffy inhaled sharply. Somehow, she wasn’t shocked at all. Surprised, maybe- but she had known all along, if she was honest. She had felt it- had seen it in his eyes. 

“I loved you before the soul, make no mistake,” he continued, sounding nervous now. “I loved you and Dawnie and Joyce as much as my undead heart would allow and I never would have hurt any of you. But now,” his hand drifted to his chest and he squeezed the area above his unbeating heart. “If I lost either of you, I would walk into the sun without a moment’s hesitation.”

Buffy couldn’t breathe. Emotions crashed over her in confusing waves, too intense and numerous to parse out their individual meanings but… she knew now, what she had to do.

Two steps closed the distance between them and suddenly she was straddling his lap, the rickety mattress he used as a bed creaking under their combined weight. “Just so we’re clear,” she spoke so close that her sweet breath washed over his face and he couldn’t help but close his eyes and lean towards her, his hands having come up to rest just above her hips on her waist, almost encircling her petite body completely. “I would have loved you with or without the soul,” she told him. The words didn’t have time to fully sink into his stunned brain before she leaned the rest of the way in and kissed him.


End file.
